life should happen starting now.

yeeeeeeeeah i can't sleep. i tried. my mind is going crazy reflecting and thinking about my last time for everything before my definition of everything changes. so change already... because i'm sick of waiting.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vdvlf6rJC7I&ob=av2n

one, two, three, four, five, and six.

one more detour and you are done. two more nights and you are out. three more pairs of jeans that don't look quite right.

i move, you move. never will i admit it. dashingly i will avoid all fabrications of your mind, and breathing hard for the last time we shall fall fall fall back.

four people once judged me. five people once hurt me. and six?

six means nothing. just a number on a die that has no control and represents yet another one of my unreasonable fears for having no trust for my split ankles and twisted balance.

tell me what to believe and for once i will take your word as truth. for i am gullible, but not quick to trust.

french.

we hit a bunny on the way back from the park

you asked why i couldn't stay out

i told you i was too young

you left

we remembered sharing smoke

sore joints.

reactions unstirred, yet attentive to the things that i can

touch around me

sensory like a child

how to let yourself love so foolishly

squandering my well-being away with a kiss to a beautiful stranger who haunts my porch

and who's rumble-down engine fills my thoughts every time i see the jet black shine in the late afternoon

pools of oil on my white driveway

luster like a black; streaks of pink and

yellow

for we were not that simple

so the stains remain

and i scrub myself clean

living loud

so i can forget the sound

of your ego revolving around plastic rotation of a flimsy desire

let me be

so i can learn to find that beat within again

sans you

independently lifting cupboards far too heavy and keys too foreign

for my fickle fingers

and wrists askew

mr. clean.

my dirty feet marked the start of something new

cleansing with transparent lavender, i found the things to

make life clean again

i am done checking and waiting

routing number changed

there is a whole world out there

and it smells like lavender.

cemetary junction.

today i agreed to a fate of lying around

so i woke up late

talked about the grey-ness of a future not everybody understands

my need to rebel escape and question

how it is almost easier to be different if no one is telling you to

things will be okay for me

i have heard the predictions

the evidence is in front of me

an old arab proverb says

"pretend your deepest desire is right in front of you, and just grab it"

honestly i don't really understand

but it seems right

and i love change and the imminent future

so today i will talk

but tomorrow i will take hold of something tightly and

just run with it

absorb.

for now i put aside form fitting clothing and eyelashes and the color black

lay on the floor

and absorb what i do not know

i'm strange, and you're strange.

i went flying when i was least expecting it. pausing for connection, remembering for redemption. singing loud, dancing like a fool. i opened up for the first time in a while. set free by nobody watching, and if they were, it was a joke. who needs you? just because of what you would do. that's not a reason to stay. so i'll laugh loud and forget the things you say.

the best day in a long time. thanks.

probably not.

refusal, finding myself in the midst of everybody's assumptions. self-denial, in order to remind myself of the life ahead. hope, that everything will meet my sky high expectations. realization, that sometimes i'm not okay. curious, because you probably don't miss me.

refusal

self-denial

hope

realization

curious

acceptance

deliver

despair

knew

careless

maybe these are not so bad after all.

twisted vine.

a punch straight to the sink hole that has become my heart

void unfilled

losing track of something endlessly far

only 20 days ago

fillmeupmylovefillme

alone i ran, drove, and swam.

waves and their power. to make you laugh, to knock you over. to talk to someone about your past... something you should have done long ago.

watching him like a hawk. realizing you too, were watching. but not him--me. "mother hen?"

are we all just birds then?

running to that endless tribute to recycling. the dead sea gull in the water. marble statues... that look like me. missing you; not enough to make me cry. but enough to drive past your house on my way home.

enough to do something a little bit stupid.

but i am young

and mistakes make you grow

for i will not learn

until i know why.

"we never stop mourning. the times in between grow longer, and the times we do grow shorter."

punch out.

.

happening

always

is

life

my

nap time revelation.

throwing pastel colored booklights to the ceiling of this warehouse, my body reacts with sightless eyes and bloody mirrors. the time i put into your grey floor with the hole where my ankle always catches, and i am left sprawling like the ridiculous 17 year old they see. i am exactly what you see; that is all you care about. my yellow lids and heart twisting worry meant nothing to you on the thursday and friday that i left. if only i could count the times you walked into me, caught by the book in your hands. when really i was alone in the cavern of my overworked mentality, and raging self conscious. what have i learned? how to spell fuchsia. and that in comparison, i am a cut above the rest of a senseless mass of humanity. these words taste bitter and harsh on my mouth... but honesty is a thick vein on my right arm. i wish you luck, to those people who understood my misplacement in their world, how if i had not been raised a certain way, i would certainly be lost in a cardboard box the size of my closet. to those who had more, who knew the world... who to some extent knew me. i do not know your last names, but your work ethic and a fragment of the skeleton of your past. a person on your mind, but never your hands. but thank you. we will not hug, or cry. but i will keep the words of your honest work on my mind, and somewhere in my heart i believe.

i cry when my friends do. they will never know.

mosquito bite.

i will talk you out of my system

denying both ends of opinion

to find a place where we can rest forever

in my memory

car seat reflections.

its night like these that make me want to cut my hair.

i saw you in the left lane.

told myself i wouldn't see you

but i don't control the left lane

or the muffler's purr

your music

or your profile set against the night

and i can't help wanting to see you

when all i know is no

city, please.

we are rebels of the darkness

lighting up this town with orange lights, street lights

controlling which way our wheels turn

where the pavement moves

dust beneath our overworked feet

but i love the motion of

fast

going somewhere

not looking back

straight ahead, plowing

through everything

anything

because you are not ahead

and no red light to tell me to stop

only

green

so go go go